


The Spirit of Christmas

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-17
Updated: 2003-11-17
Packaged: 2018-12-27 03:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: QAF meets Dicken's "A Christmas Carol".





	The Spirit of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

"Brian, why don't you just come over here for Christmas. We're going to have a big dinner. Mel's family is coming, so it would be nice if some of mine were here as well. Ted and Emmett said they were gonna drop by." 

"No Lindsay." Brian answered flatly. 

"For Gus?" 

He hesitated a moment at the mention of his son. "I might swing by. But I'm not promising so don't hold your breath." 

"Never do." Brian rolled his eyes and nodded as if Lindsay could see him. "Well if we don't see you...have a merry Christmas." 

Distractedly, "Yeah...whatever." After hanging up with the mother of his son, he barked a short, "Cynthia!" 

The blond stuck her head into the office and scowled at her boss. She was halfway through getting her coat on to leave and her annoyance was palpable. "What?" 

"Don't go yet. I still need a few things faxed and copied." 

"Do it yourself." 

Brian's eyes widened. It wasn't that he was surprised by her answer. He wasn't. In fact, that was her usual response. But this time she had said it with a voice full of disdain. "What the hell is wrong with you?" 

She didn't even hesitate before yelling, "You!" 

"What?" 

"Brian Kinney, it's fucking Christmas Eve! CHRISTMAS EVE! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" 

Brian placed his pen down on top of the copy he had been reviewing and crossed his arms. "Frankly, no. It doesn't." 

"Look..." She sighed and softened her voice. "I know things are rough. I know you miss Justin. But you have to stop taking it out on me and everyone else!" 

"I don't miss Justin. I walked away from HIM, not the other way around." Well it was true in the literal sense anyway. 

"Yes I know. I'm the one that got to field the dozens of angry calls from your friends and family afterwards. Still...that is no reason to impose on my Christmas. I would like to see my family." 

Brian glanced down at his watch without uncrossing his arms. "Cynthia, it's nearly seven. You're never going to make it to New York on time. Traffic is going to be hell." 

"Which is precisely why I asked if I could leave early. But then I got stuck helping you with the copy on the Felix campaign, which doesn't even have to be done until the middle of January." 

"Why didn't you say something?" 

"Wha..." His assistant's mouth was agape, in awe of her boss's gall. "I DID!" 

"Well since you're still here...a few more hours won't matter right?" 

"Fuck you! Damn grinch!" Cynthia stormed out of his office and slammed to door behind her. Brian shook his head and let out a deep breath, trying to release the tension in his body. He began to roll his neck in circles to work out a kink and the door was thrust open and the woman shouted a very hostile yet sincere, "HAVE A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS!" 

~*~*~*~

Brian left the office an hour later, finally giving up on the copy. His eyes had begun to cross and the words before him had started to blur. Another sign of old age, he groaned to himself. 

At the tender age of thirty-seven, Brian Kinney was becoming an old man. He refused to admit it but that didn't mean he couldn't see it. In a few short months, he would be thirty-eight. The years would run together and assuming he made it that long, he would soon be forty. The thought was chilling. 

Not quite as chilling as the wind though. His body was in serious pain now, with the change in weather causing old injuries and arthritis to kick in and become inflamed. His joints were even getting stiff. Just another fact of life that he had been sure he would never have to face. 

He sat in his jeep for a short time, warming it so that he could get the heater to work properly. Turning on the radio, he listened as a loud announcer bitch about the weather. It was abnormally cold, even for a Pittsburgh winter. The cold front had come out of nowhere of course. Just last week, he had listened to the same man gripe about the fact that It had been unseasonably warm and that they hadn't had any snow. Could no one be satisfied? 

When he finally arrived at the loft, he checked his small mail box which was full to overflowing. Brian hadn't thought to retrieve it in the last few days. His mail, of course, was mostly bills but his heart lurched as he sorted out several Christmas cards and letters that had arrived bearing his ex-lover's name. He tossed them in the garbage can that stood beside the front entrance without a second thought. Surely they should all know by now, he thought. 

He was, of course, referring to the big break up that had happened nearly four months earlier. To Brian it felt like a lifetime ago. Several lifetimes, in fact. 

With Marty Ryder leaving to run the new L.A. office over a year ago, Brian had become the top dog. The promotion, although completely welcome, had quickly taken it's toll on everyone around him. Michael felt abandoned, Lindsay was disappointed, Gus barely even responded to him anymore. All due to the lack of time that he reserved to spend with his surrogate family. Justin had finally cracked just like the rest of them. Brian had been so sure that Justin would be the one person that would understand. The person that would stay by his side no matter what. 

Brian had insisted on working late. In the back of his mind he could hear some tiny voice telling him that he was forgetting something. That he needed to be somewhere else. But he had to concentrate on the Maxwell account. It would mean big money for the firm. Unfortunately, Justin wasn't as concerned about the account as he was. Brian had made plans to meet Justin at Woody's and when he didn't show, his lover decided that enough was enough. 

Brian had been livid. He had gone looking for him at Woody's. Three hours late, but it was a stroke of luck that he had remembered at all. After another hour of asking around, he finally found the younger man at Babylon, dancing his hot little ass off with some hot college stud, nearly fucking the man on the dance floor. He stalked over to the couple and jerked Justin around by his arm, forcing a face off. 

"Care to explain?" 

"No." 

"What are you playing at here, Justin?" 

Justin had shrugged and told him in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't wait around forever. He wouldn't sit at home twiddling his fucking thumbs, hoping that Brian might come home long enough to grab a quick bite and a quick fuck only to leave again. He hadn't said it was over. He simply gave Brian the choice to leave or to stay. But Brian knew all of the stipulations that would come with staying, so he turned sharply and walked away. 

As he opened the heavy door to the loft, he paused and looked around. Justin's art books. Justin's DVD collection. Justin's favorite chair. Justin's painting of Gus. If he went downstairs into the fifth floor that he had bought and converted into an at home office/studio for himself and Justin, he would see even more of the other man's shit. It was such a tease really. Whispering hopeful words in his head that perhaps Justin would come back. 

He had told Justin to get his things out of there months ago. Well...Cynthia had anyway. He had been too busy to call his ex-lover for something so trivial - or at least that's what he had told Cynthia. This was before the furniture and small personal items had begun to taunt him. Mocking him in their owner's absence. He would call him now, only Brian wasn't exactly sure where the man was living anymore. It was sad really, considering that they had been friends for over seven years and lovers for nearly five. 

Fuck it, he told himself. No use crying over spilled milk. Milk...like Justin's milky white skin. Oh fuck! STOP! 

Shrugging out of his suit, Brian pulled on his favorite Penn State sweat suit and turned on the television. Channel after channel. Pointless show after pointless show. Holiday special after holiday special. Nothing in particular caught his attention, so he left the television on a random channel and watched as the Grinch took the candy cane from Cindy Lou Who. Cindy...with her blond hair and big blue eyes. She could be the animated version of Justin's daughter. If he had one of course. 

Angry with the return of his unwelcome Justin-centric thoughts, Brian turned the television off and hurled the remote at the flat screen. It hit the panel and fell to the floor, all of its pieces still intact. Brian recovered from the small tantrum and got up to retrieve the controller but as he did, something caught his eye. The television had been turned back on. He used the remote to turn it off, but a moment later it was back on. He hit the small round power button at the bottom of the panel and turned away. He froze, mid-step as he heard the television come back on once again. But that wasn't the problem. He could have chalked that up to faulty wiring. A bad censor. Something mechanical. The voice he heard couldn't be explained away quite as easily. 

That voice. A voice from his past. A haunting voice. An ominous voice. 

Turning slowly, Brian blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Yet the image remained there before his eyes. It was Jack. Good ole Jack-fuckin'-Kinney. The asshole. 

"Brian." The voice was dry and dark. It was like a hacking cough. Offensive and painful to one's ears. "Brian!" 

"This...this isn't real. I'm hallucinating. It's all those fucking drugs I took in my twenties. It's all catching up to me right." Brian nodded, knowing that would have to explain the entire thing. 

"Drugs? You wish! Now shut the hell up and listen!" 

"Why don't YOU shut the hell up old man! I got rid of you. Rolled that fuckin bowling ball half way down the neighborhood!" 

Jack looked annoyed and impatient. "What are you talkin about? Fuckin fairy piece o' shit!" 

"Better to be a fuckin fairy than a washed up old bastard like you were." 

"Hey! Watch your mouth you ungrateful little - " Before Jack could finish the sentence, Brian reached around the television and pulled the plug from the wall socket. 

"There. That should shut you up, old man." He refused to even think about the fact that he was talking to a tv. More specifically, having a conversation with his father. His dead father. That was in the tv. 

Quickly, he poured himself a shot of whiskey and made his way down the spiral staircase that was located in the corner where the chaise lounge had once been. If nothing else, he could see who was online. Maybe pick up a trick that would be willing to make a pre-holiday house call. 

Reclining back in his Italian black leather desk chair, he moved the mouse to clear the screen saver. The face was there. He wasn't making any sound, but the disembodied head was floating across the screen of his monitor. "Ted? Michael? Emmett? Who's doing this? It's not fucking funny!" 

"So quick to blame. The perfect Brian Kinney," the head of Jack Kinney finally laughed mockingly. None of the mirth he expressed reached his eyes, which were blood-shot and filled with pain. "What if I said that YOU where the one that brought me here?" 

"Me? No-no. See...I would never bring you here. I would bring some other head. A nicer head. Perhaps the head of some extremely sexy man. Speaking of...mind getting your head off my computer so that I can maybe...get some head of my own?" 

"Listen, you ungrateful brat! I have something to say!" Brian was speechless. The ghost. The apparition. Whatever it may be. There was something in the voice. Something that told him to heed what the old man was saying. Joke or not. He nodded slowly. "I know I was a shitty father. I get that." 

Brian scoffed, nearly unable to control the laughter bubbling up inside of him at this revelation. "Go on..." 

"But you need to get past that. Believe it or not...I'm here to help." When Jack was sure Brian's attention was with him completely, "You have let things get too out of control. You are just like me. Focusing too much on what could be." 

"Yeah and what's wrong with that?" Brian thought back to all the women that his father had chased after, while his wife had sat at home with children that neither of them wanted. All the nights that the man had decided to neglect his family only to piss away his time and money drinking at the bar with the boys. He had always been looking for something to take the edge off of life. To make things seem better. Brian knew exactly what was wrong with that. 

"You're always looking towards something better. When you look towards something better all the time, you never have the chance to realize that you already have all that you need or could ever want." His father took a deep shuddering breath. "I guess you know where I am huh?" 

Brian raised an eyebrow. "I had figured." 

"Yeah well...don't look too haughty, Mr. Wonderful! Where exactly do you think you're going to end up? In some sort of afterlife for the rich and powerful? Where all the beautiful people go? Uh-uh. You are traveling the same road as I once did. Your road might be shinier...but it still leads to the same place sonny boy." 

Brian shivered as the man used what he considered an endearment. It was what he called Gus. But from the lips of his dead father it seemed tainted and wrong. "Why are you here, dammit?" 

"I am simply a messenger. You're gonna go on a little trip. Take stock of your life. Of all you may see. Without this...well...you have no hope of ever changing things. You are going to have visitors sonny boy. Might want to get some sleep, because they'll be coming for you soon." 

Chills raced up and down Brian's body, leaving him cold and shaking. The pale face of his father disappeared and jerked the computer's main plug from the wall violently. He felt sick. What the hell was happening? 

~*~*~*~

By the time Brian had downed several shots of Jim Beam, he had convinced himself that he was simply tired. Overworked. Maybe having acid flashbacks. Although couldn't actually remember a time when he had taken acid. Still...something had to explain what had happened. 

He went about his normal routine of a quick shower, brushing his teeth and doing several hundred sit-ups before going to bed. The only difference was that he felt some overwhelming need to turn nearly every light in the loft on. It was the same principle, he guessed. If lights could scare away the Boogie Man, then surely they would keep away any ‘visitors'. 

Around midnight, he fell into a fitful sleep, the blue neon tubing above his bed the only light still burning. 

A loud rapping at his door caused him to jerk awake. He had been having a nightmare. One of those short dreams that occur on the threshold of sleep when you aren't quiet asleep but you aren't quiet awake. The interruption had his heart pounding. Momentarily forgetting all that had transpired earlier, he stumbled blindly to the door, pulling on his robe as he went. It had to be someone that knew how to get into the building. Maybe Michael was back in town and wanted to surprise him. 

As he threw open the door, his eyes tried to adjust to the new light in front of him. A silver sequined tube top, tight leather pants and a platinum blond wig. She was a beautiful woman but he could see that she could also be a very fuckable man. The drag queen stood there staring at him with the same interest as he was showing in her. 

"Who the hell are you?" 

She ignored the offensive greeting, "I, darling, am your friend." She had a soft, feminine voice that all but purred and a certain glow about her that captivated him. Yet she remained an unwelcome intrusion. 

"Friend? Sorry...I don't know what you're selling but I'm sure I already have two of whatever it is." Before he could slide the door shut, the man...woman slid under his arm and into his home. 

"Nice place." She nodded in appreciation of her surroundings. 

Brian glared at her. "Well I would give you a tour but you have to be going now." 

"Yes." She smiled breezily. "Yes. It is time to go. How very good of you to notice." She held out her hand to him. "Well...come on." She giggled like a child and closed the distance between them, grabbing his hand and holding it firmly in her own. 

"Who are you?" 

"Just as I said. I am a friend. And I shall show you the light." 

"That's nice. Really. But do you...maybe have a name?" ...that I can tell the police, he added under his breath. 

Again she giggled. "Oh right. Pearl." 

"Pearl?" The woman shook her head softly. As Brian watched her, he realized that Pearl was glowing. A soft white light radiated from her skin. It could have been glitter but he somehow knew that it wasn't. Glitter couldn't put off such a warm luminescence. "Are you...a visitor?" 

"Oh dear! Darling you make it sound like I just popped out of a space ship. Really!" Pearl put one hand to her nearly non-existent chest and laughed lightly. Brian suddenly realized who she reminded him of. 

"Are you some See the Light reject? Emmett put you up to this, didn't he! I swear, I'm going to-" 

"No darling. I am the one you were expecting. I am the ghost of Christmas past." 

Brian paused and then rolled his eyes. This was getting more and more ridiculous. If it would have been Halloween...or even the first of April he could have passed it off as a prank. More than anything, he was wishing that he hadn't had that fourth shot of liquor before bed. 

"Okay," Pearl began. She let go of his hand and slid her arm around his shoulders slowly so not to spook him. He seemed a bit like a skittish horse at that moment. Ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. "I can see you are a little doubting Thomas. But, if it makes you feel any better, I am a good ghost." 

"It doesn't. But thanks for making that effort." His tone was rude and sarcastic but he didn't care. Why should he care when he was on the edge of sanity, hanging on by his fingertips. This was obviously a product of his deeply troubled subconscious. 

Pearl frowned. "Sweety, if we spend all day discussing who I am, then you'll never make it. If we're going to go, we have to go now." 

"Go where?" 

"Isn't it obvious? Why to Christmas past, my dear!" She put her arm through his, escort style and began ushering him towards the door. 

"What? We don't get to disappear into some bright light or something?" 

"Honey, don't get smart. You just pay attention and let Mama Pearl work her magic." 

Pearl opened the heavy sliding door and there was nothing. The same old elevator. Same old stairs. Same old building. Brian snorted, "Well, Mama Pearl?" 

The woman rolled her eyes. "Skeptics! Reeeeeally!" She tugged him into the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor. 

"Won't it be cold?" Brian gestured to his thin silk robe as they got to the front door. 

"You won't feel a thing. Trust me." With that, she pushed the door open and he stepped through. Only, when he put his foot over the threshold, he wasn't outside of his apartment, but outside of his own home. His childhood home. "Recognize it?" 

"This is where my mother lives." He shrugged. 

"No...it's where you live. At least at this point in your life. Why don't you try the window," Pearl suggested. 

Brian walked towards the livingroom window and peeked through the frosty pane. Inside, he saw what looked to be a normal family on Christmas morning. He saw Claire in the midst of a sea of gift wrappings, playing with the new doll she had only just opened. Jack was sitting in his lounge chair, watching a football game on tv and nursing a bottle of beer. Joanie was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room chain smoking and looking bored. Yet, no Brian. 

"Do you remember this Christmas?" 

"Yes...I think so. This was the first Christmas that I learned there was no Santa Claus. Jimmy Preston, this kid from my class told me all about it. I came home that afternoon and asked my dad if it was true." Brian hesitated, drawing on more of the memories from where they had been buried. 

"What happened?" Pearl put a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently, waiting patiently for him to continue. 

"I asked and he said ‘Of course there isn't a Santa! I thought you had already grown out of that shit! Only babies and sissies believe in that stuff. Are you a baby or a sissy?'" Brian huffed as if he were that little boy, reacting to his father's barbs. "I got so mad. I went straight upstairs and told Claire everything." 

He laughed bitterly. "She ran straight to Jack. He always sided with her and she knew it. Told him what I had said. Know what he did?" 

Pearl didn't respond. She knew. 

"He yanked his belt from the loops on his pants and beat the shit out of me. No real reason behind it. Claire would have found out eventually anyway. But he told me that if I was so eager to show off the fact that there was no Santa, then...I wouldn't mind missing Christmas. I was confined to my room all of Christmas day. Later, Claire gave me a piece of the candy from her stocking but I knew it was only because she didn't like that particular kind." 

Pearl nodded. And closed her eyes. They were instantly in his childhood room. From the football players on his wallpaper to his favorite blue toy chest that sat at the foot of his bed. Brian watched himself as a boy, sitting sadly on the floor. He looked to be about eight or nine. Although was playing with some of his old toys, anyone could see that he was deriving no pleasure from the activity. A loud squeal of joy, unmistakably Claire's, could be heard from downstairs and young Brian stiffened. His hand closed tightly around his toy car and he gritted his teeth to hold back his tears. 

"I had forgotten..." The man whispered. 

"That's why you have to see it. Now...how about we try another Christmas?" Brian nodded eagerly, wanting more than anything to get away from this scene before him. 

No sooner than he could blink, they were standing outside of a large brick building. A library. It looked deserted. "This looks...familiar." 

"It should. You walked past it every day for four years." 

"Oh right!" The building suddenly became familiar to Brian and the memories of his late night cram sessions on the second floor came rushing back to him. 

"Do you remember this particular Christmas?" Brian shook his head. His college years had gone by in a blur of studying, men, partying, men, classes and drugs...and men. Not necessarily in that order. 

They stood there for a moment and Brian waited for some transformation in the scenery but was surprised as Pearl sat down on a nearby bench. She seemed to float even as she sat. "What are we doing?" 

"Waiting." Pearl whispered. 

Brian lowered the volume of his voice to match her's. "For what?" The woman simply pointed her finger, lengthened by an inch long purple nail, at a couple that was running through the snow on the quad. 

"Lindsay, get your lesbian ass back here!" 

"No way! You have to catch me first!" Lindsay called back to her pursuer. It was obviously a game. His friend, then a brunette, ran and ran until she collapsed on a snow bank near the bench that Pearl had perched on. 

The young man, a young Brian Kinney, was in hot pursuit and landed right beside her, pulling her into his arms. They kissed. It was a peck. Nothing more than a kiss of friendship, but it left them both breathless. Their breath rising in small white clouds on the cold December air. 

"Brian...I know you were planning on staying here anyway. But thank you." 

The younger Brian looked genuinely puzzled. "For what?" 

"For staying with me. So that I wouldn't be alone on Christmas." Unshed tears gathered in her eyes before spilling quickly down her cheek. Probably frozen before they hit the ground. 

Brian remembered the Christmas now. It had been the year that Lindsay had finally come out to her parents. They had been so angry. Their perfect little girl was dating someone else's perfect little girl. 

"Ah Lindz..." Brian brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes with his thick gloved fingers. "You know you can count on me for anything. You're my best girl friend. Hell...you're my ONLY girl friend!" 

This made Lindsay laugh and Brian - both Brians - felt their hearts expand and insides warm at the lyrical sound. 

"So, how about a burger?" 

"You payin?" 

"Brian, if my parents are so upset with me that they asked me not to come home for Christmas, I sort of think they might frown on me using their money." 

Brian shook his head as if to say ‘you have so much to learn'. "Lindsay, that only means you should spend more to overcompensate. Haven't you heard my beer to water theory?" 

"Can't say that I have." 

"I'll tell you all about it over dinner. Now let's go enjoy daddy's gold card." 

Lindsay giggled at young Brian and pulled him up from the ground. "Oh alright. Merry Christmas Brian." 

"Merry Christmas Lindz." 

Brian and Pearl watched as the pair walked away, their arms around one another's waist, hips bumping together as they moved. 

"That was one of my favorite times." Brain smiled at the woman next to him. 

"Then why didn't you remember it?" 

"I guess...you just move on. Life goes on. You don't look back." 

"Ah!" Pearl held up her finger to stress her point. "But sometimes you have to look back...to move forward." 

Brian looked back towards the retreating couple and sighed. Sometimes you have to look back... He hated riddles. Before he could question it, Pearl was on her feet and walking towards the middle of the quad. Though she trudged through nearly two feet of snow, she left no footprints. 

"One more stop, darling." 

"Where to...next?" Before he could get the words from his mouth, Brian was standing back in the loft. "Wait. I thought you said one more." 

"So I did." Pearl nodded her head towards the bedroom. Brian charged towards the beckoning blue lights and gasped at what he saw. 

"I thought we said no gifts." Justin's back was to him but he could hear the grin that was plastered to his face. A large square box sat between them. 

Brian heard himself reply, "Yeah right. I'd be willing to bet that you have me something...probably..." He reached under his pillow and pulled out a small box wrapped in shiny green paper. "..right here." 

"Okay. Fine. So I got you something. But you really didn't have to get me anything." The young man put the larger present off to the side and rolled over, throwing his arm across Brian's waist. "I'm just happy to be here with you." 

Brian watched himself and Justin snuggle from where they lay crossways on the bed. "This was our first Christmas living together. We...stayed up all night talking." 

"Just talking?" Even Pearl was amazed by this discovery. 

"Yeah. It just felt right. Good. We talked until dawn about nothing in particular. Just enjoying one another's voices. Then we fell asleep in each other's arms. Didn't even bother to open the gifts until later the next day. It just didn't seem important." The couple before him began to kiss gently. They murmured softly to one another and Brian continued to watch them wistfully. 

"Why don't we take a trip? Next week." 

"Brian...what are you talking about?" Justin laughed lightly. "You have three different accounts to work on as soon as you get back." 

"Two. And the new Liberty Air campaign isn't pressing. I can get Bob and Brad to work on the other." Brian ran his fingers leisurely up and down Justin's back. 

"Bob and Brad will only fuck it up." 

"I know. But I can fix it when I get back. C'mon. We can go to Chelsea and rent that nice little suit you got that time. It seemed nice." 

Justin giggled. "How would you know? You hardly saw it." 

Brian began to place soft kisses on Justin's shoulder. "I saw it. I saw the bed." Kiss. "I saw the shower." Kiss. " I saw the sofa." Kiss. "Twice." Kiss. 

"Yeah." Justin breathed. "It's amazing that we even had the strength to move, let alone run around the city looking for the guys." He laced his fingers with Brian's and hugged their hands to his chest. "I don't have to go back to class for another week, so I'll go if you really want." 

"I really want. It will be good to get away." After a profound pause, Brian nuzzled Justin's neck. "I love you baby." 

Pearl looked back and forth between the two versions of the same man. "Well...it LOOKS like you." 

Brian wanted so much to tell the ghost where she could go but he was still transfixed by the scene in front of him. He remembered that Christmas so vividly. The feelings, that had recently been covered by anger and resentment, were undeniable even to his hardened heart. "He left me no choice!" Brian felt the need to reconfirm this. But he wasn't sure to whom he was confirming it. 

When he blinked again, he was back in his bed, the blue lights still the only illumination in the otherwise darkened loft. "Pearl?" He looked around but Justin, his former self and the angelic drag queen were nowhere to be found. 

~*~*~*~

_The only difference between the saint and the sinner is that every saint has a past and every sinner has a future. *Oscar Wilde*_

~*~*~*~

 

Brian attempted to fall asleep once again. He was convinced that it had been nothing but a dream. And even if it had been real, there was nothing he could do about it now. It was over. Or so he thought. The exact second his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks, there was a loud rustling sound in the far corner of the loft near the kitchen. 

Though he couldn't see the intruder, he could feel him. It was as if all of the air in the room had been displaced by this new presence. 

"Who's there?" Brian asked, though not really expecting an answer. Any good thief or other degenerate would know to stay silent so that they might draw the unsuspecting victim out into the open. The other option was to simply flee. Obviously the man hadn't been in class the day they taught breaking and entering 101. 

"Can you see me?" A deep voice called out. 

"No but you're being loud enough to wake the dead!" It would seem that at a time like this he might be a little tense. Yet his instincts, which had always guided him so well in the past, were telling him that he would be fine. 

"Yuck. Terrible job that would be - waking the dead. But sorry. That's not my department. I prefer to get ‘em pre rigor mortis." He laughed at himself, though Brian didn't think any of it was very funny. "I'm Grant, by the way." 

Brian rolled out of bed and made his way in the darkness, feeling for the wall beside the door. The adrenaline that he felt at the thought of another person being there when he flipped the light switch, had his heart beating double time. Thumping loudly like a drum in his ears. 

The bright flourescent light buzzed on overhead and Brian's eyes flew to the man that was rummaging through his cabinets. The figure before him was tall and thin. He looked frail. As though even the slightest pressure could break him in half but at the same time he seemed so full of life. He wore a plain black t-shirt with tattered jeans. With a head full of short black curls and a neatly trimmed black goatee that made him appear well groomed if nothing else, Grant reminded him of someone that Ted might appreciate. One of the desperate and lonely. 

Reading his mind, "Looks can be deceiving Mr. Kinney." The man smirked and watched Brian from the corner of his eye. Moving from the cabinets to the refrigerator, he helped himself to a bottle of water. "For instance. How old do you think I am?" 

Brian shrugged but inwardly he winced. That was a question that could almost never be answered correctly. "Twenty-six?" The man's body shook with silent laughter and he took a long draft from the bottle. 

"Why not thirty? Honestly! I don't look a day over twenty." This was said in a factual tone, leaving no room to doubt that the man was very self-aware. "What time is it?" 

Brian was briefly confused by the rapid jump in topic but glanced at the clock on the microwave. "It's two. Why?" 

"Ah...then I am now all of two hours old." 

"Sure you are." Brian's tone was one of someone that was placating an idiot. 

"Unlike my counterparts, Christmas past as well as Christmas future, there can only be one day in which I exist. Where the past and future stretch out for many years, the present can only last for a fleeting moment. Or as it would be...a day." 

The light went on in Brian's head. "That would make you Christmas present." 

Grant winked at him. "Smart kid!" 

"So...you're a ghost too?" 

The man's small pink mouth curled into an amused grin. "Not at all. I am a spirit. Ghosts are spirits that have passed on. I will be one soon enough though." 

Brian was now over the shock that his earlier delusion was continuing. Coming to terms with the situation, he decided to speed the process along. "What are you going to show me?" 

"Straight to the point! I like that." He clapped his hands together. "Alright. Let's get this show on the road." Brian started for the door but the man called him back with a shrill whistle. "Where do you think you're going?" 

"That other one - Pearl...she..." 

"Uh-huh. Well she likes to make some sort of point by taking you into it gradually. Me? I like to get straight to it so that you can make the most of the things you see." 

Brian blinked and opened his eyes to see that his own home had transformed around him and now they were in the sitting room at Lindsay and Melanie's house. The women ran in opposite directions. Lindsay heading towards the kitchen for more refreshments while Melanie emerged with a pot of coffee in one hand and a pitcher of eggnog in the other. As their paths crossed they took a moment to kiss. Ever the picture of marital bliss. 

Gus was looking through the pile of educational toys that he had been given. Toys and books that promised to teach the boy higher math skills and build his vocabulary. He got a few art books as well, though even Brian was in tune with his son enough to know that Gus couldn't draw a stick figure if his life depended on it. Of course, this was not due to Lindsay's lack of enthusiasm over teaching him all about the masters and technique. The creative gene had obviously skipped their child. 

"Why couldn't they just give him toys like normal parents?" Brian asked out loud even though the answer was in the question. They weren't normal. They put the ‘funk' in dysfunctional, as Justin had always been so fond of saying. 

The doorbell rang and the boy jumped up and was opening the door before either of his moms could stop him. "Justin!" 

Everyone's head turned to see the blond walk into the room with Gus attached to his side. Brian was awestruck by the man's appearance. He looked thinner if it was possible. And even though he had one of his brightest sunshine smiles on his face, there was a sad tiredness in his eyes. 

It appeared that Gus hadn't seen Justin in a while either, by the look of pure shock and excitement on his face. Mel and Lindsay as well as Emmett, Ted and Blake had their turn at hugging the younger man, yet Gus would not even loosen his arms from Justin's waist. 

"I thought your family was going to be here, Mel." 

"Hey! Don't complain." Mel giggled and hugged Lindsay to her. "They were planning on making the trip but my nephew got sick and they all decided to stay put." 

Lindsay grinned at her lover and leaned in to nuzzle her neck. "Needless to say, Mel was devastated." 

"I can see that." Justin laughed softly at the women in front of him before making a surprise attack on Gus. First he went for his ribs. Gus's most ticklish spot. Brian's too. 

Gus fell back, letting go of Justin long enough for the man to regroup and attack once more on his stomach. He could then either go to Gus's feet or under his chin but instead of torturing the boy with any more of the tickle monster, he let him go and told him to run and get the bags that he had left at the door. The child hopped to his assigned task willingly, glad to be free of the one-sided game. 

"So, why didn't you tell us you were coming," Emmett demanded to know. 

Justin shrugged. "I actually hadn't planned on it. Then Molly called me and told me that mom had been crying about this being the first year that I wouldn't be home. You get the picture." 

"The mommy guilt trip. It's as natural as breathing. Believe me - Lindz is a pro!" 

Lindsay raised an eyebrow at her wife but the bright smile never left her face. "Well I think it's wonderful that you could make it. No matter what the reason." 

"Yeah baby! We missed you!" Emmett looked so close to tears that Justin crossed the room just to embrace him. 

"Oh Em. I missed you guys too." 

"Have you found a job?" Ted asked, ever the financially forward thinker. 

"Well yes and no. I was commissioned to do several portraits for the owner of the company I interviewed with last month. He's paying me very well but it's by no means permanent. Of course he has a lot of clout in New York so he can get me more freelance work from his friends, if nothing else." 

New York. Brian stiffened at that piece of information. Part of him was worried about Justin being in the big city all by himself. The other part of him was jealous and a bit angry that Justin might succeed there when he himself had failed. 

A loud ding rang out from the kitchen and Lindsay perked up. "Turkey's done." She motioned for Justin to follow. Brian grabbed Grant's shirtfront and made his way into the kitchen behind the other two. 

"Have you talked to him yet?" Brian smiled. Lindsay had always been good about getting straight to the point. It was one of her finest qualities. 

Justin shook his head and a hard look crossed his face. "Wasn't planning to talk to him. Did you get my stuff like I asked you to?" So that's why he hadn't picked up his things. 

"No. And I'm not going to. Justin this is ridiculous!" She pulled a oversized turkey from the oven and set it on top of the stove to cool. The oven door was slammed hard as she vented her frustration for her friends. "You love him. He loves you. What else do you need?" 

"Lindz," Justin looked at her as though he were being betrayed. "You know what happened. I told him that I wasn't about to sit there waiting for him. He left without so much as a goodbye. That tells me all I need to know about Brian Kinney's priorities." 

"You and I both know that Brian is nothing more than a turtle." 

"A turtle?" Justin and Brian spoke together. 

"Yeah. A hard shell with a big old softy inside. Yes. He was an asshole. Sure. He walked away when he should have tried talking things out. But he's always been an asshole and he's never been a big talker when it comes to things like that." 

Justin turned to the sink and focused on something outside the window. She was right and he knew it. His shoulders slumped and Brian could see Justin working hard to figure something out. "Lindsay…if I tell you something…" 

"It will stay between us Justin." 

"The reason that I left, is that I was jealous." 

"Jealous?" 

He nodded, ashamed. "When Brian and I got together…we had rules. We could still fool around. Then we moved in together and as far as I know we both gave it up. It was a big step for him to say the least." 

"To say the very least." Brian muttered. 

Lindsay stared helplessly at his back, waiting for him to go on. When he did, she could hear the regret in his voice. "I took it for granted." 

"Took what for granted sweetie?" 

"That he would always put me first. At least before the trivial stuff." Justin turned his back to the sink and stared at Lindsay's feet. "I figured if he could give up other men for me…then that would be it. We would be together forever. Nothing would ever come between us because I wouldn't let it." He shrugged. His words suddenly blocked by an invisible wall of emotion. Finally he shook his head and cleared it of whatever was taking him back to that night. Bringing back the feelings that had choked him for weeks…months afterwards. "He forgot our anniversary." 

"What?" Lindsay tried to make sense of what he was saying but Justin was babbling on as if she hadn't spoken. 

"He and I always ‘celebrated' the anniversary of my prom together. It was ours. The night that we both just knew. Well, I had always known, but that night was the point of no return for us...and especially Brian. 

Every year we would go out for a bit and then go home and get plowed until we couldn't see straight. No big deal. Just us. He was supposed to meet me at Woody's for a first drink. Sort of kick off the evening. Then we were going to dinner and then home. So of course I was a little surprised when, three hours later, I'm still sitting at the bar waiting for him. There had been times before when he would forget about plans. I had expected that what with the new promotion and everything. Hell, I was proud of him and he was getting settled into the position after all." 

Lindsay nodded and said nothing about the fact that even though he was mad at him, Justin was still taking up for Brian. She knew all too well about doing that. 

"When he walked up to me at Babylon, he was still in his suit. He hadn't even changed. There before me was Brian Kinney. Advertiser extraordinaire. My boyfriend, lover, partner…whatever…long gone. He had put his job before me one time too many. I'll admit...I had wanted the guy he found me dancing with. I wanted so badly to show Brian that I could forget him as easily as he could forget me. But I couldn't do it. Even after he left I just felt like shit. It was my fault for backing him into a corner but it still broke my heart." 

"Oh Justin." She whispered as she enveloped him in her arms. 

He didn't cry but Brian could see that Justin was finally letting out a lot of his feelings about that night. He was trying to move past it. The pride and pent up emotions were what had kept him from coming back to him as he had so many times before. And as Brian had thought for sure he would this last time. But the significance of that night? Brian had done what he thought to be impossible and completely forgot about it. Guilt washed over him. 

Justin finally straightened out of Lindsay's arms and smiled shyly. "I guess we'd better get out there. Everyone is probably wondering where we are. Oh...and I invited a friend. You don't mind do you?" Lindsay shook her head and squeezed Justin's hand lovingly. 

Brian looked to Grant, who was watching Justin with keen interest. Feeling Brian's eyes on him, he turned and blinked himself from his trance-like state. "Let's get out of here. I don't think you want to see the rest." 

"What? Why not?" Brian was set to follow Justin from the room. He needed to see that he was alright. Just then the doorbell rang once again. Brian could hear Justin's voice, now clearer and happier. He was introducing the new guest. He introduced him as his ‘good friend'. 

Brian frowned but before he could charge into the next room, Grant beckoned him with his hand and their fingers touched, transporting them immediately to the exterior of the Novotny home. The previous moments in front of Justin pushed aside but definitely not forgotten. 

With it's garish display of lights and a lit up plastic Santa on the front porch, Brian was amazed at how little Deb had actually put out this year. He knew that Vic had gotten worse and Michael was no longer around. She probably hadn't felt like putting out the fifty some odd lawn ornaments that usually drove her neighbors insane each year. He felt a bit of guilt that he hadn't even offered to help. Gus had always loved the bright figures and commotion that came with an old fashioned Novotny Christmas. 

"Well. Come on." The spirit moved through the door and Brian did the same, only a little unnerved by the experience. 

"Vic! Give it to me!" They heard Deb growl from recliner. 

Vic was lying on the couch across from his sister and was quickly flipping through the channels of the semi-new television. He ignored the woman's command and smirked at his own rebelliousness. There was no way the woman was going to make him watch "It's a Wonderful Life" for the millionth time. 

"Vic! I'm warning you! Give me that clicker or I'm gonna..." 

"Gonna what?" the man taunted. 

"I'm gonna...SING at you!" 

Vic sat up and looked at his sister. Her wig was slightly askew - almost comically so - but the look on her face meant business. "You wouldn't." 

"I would!" She inhaled deeply, readying herself for the first note of some off-tune Christmas carol and Vic tossed her the remote with a defeated sigh. "Thanks sweety," she squeaked victoriously. 

Grant shook his head. "That was so sad." 

Brian smirked, "Obviously you've never heard Deb sing." 

"So what time is Michael getting in?" Vic asked loudly so as to drown out the television that was now, as predicted, on "It's a Wonderful Life". 

Deb checked her watch. "Their flight was due in at noon. By the time they got the rental car..." 

"They should have been here two hours ago." Vic said sadly. "Maybe the flight was delayed." 

"I'm sure it was. Holiday rush and all. But he could have had the common decency to call." Everyone in the room recognized the tirade that was about to take place. "I blame Brian." 

"Why? He has nothing to do with it." 

"Thank you!" Brian called out to Vic even though he knew the man could not hear him. "Nice to know someone sticks up for me." 

"Ever since he talked Michael into going back to David..." 

"I know. Michael has changed. But really, Deb. How can you lay the blame with Brian? You yourself said that Michael should be with the man he loves." 

Deb was struck speechless. A mood that did not fit her at all. She huffed and crossed her arms, jerking herself back in the chair. Pouting like a child of five. 

Just then the telephone rang and Deb brightened, picking up the receiver on the second ring. "Hello? Michael! Baby, where are you?" Her smile fell flat. "Aren't coming? A party?! You get your skinny little ass home or... Well of course I want you to be happy but... Fine. Merry Christmas to you too." She hung up slowly as if the energy had been sapped from her body. "He said to tell you Merry Christmas." 

Vic grunted and stood up slowly, taking a moment to adjust to the new position. "Why don't we dip into that eggnog," he suggested. Deb nodded mutely, allowing herself to cry only when her brother had left the room. 

Brian turned to Grant in confusion. "What's wrong?" 

"Michael has fallen back into the same routine as before. David has turned him into a nice little dress up doll. Michael doesn't even have the balls to tell him no so he takes his own cowardice out on his mother. Their few calls usually end up sounding like that." 

"How did I not know about this?" 

"How could you have?" 

Here it comes, Brian thought. The lecture. That he no longer had time to speak to his best friend. He made no time to visit with Vic and Deb. It was once again his fault. But Grant remained silent. "Aren't you going to stick it to me?" 

"No. I believe you know exactly where the problem lies." 

The lights in the house faded and Brian watched as the scenery changed before his eyes. The sofa, the window, the Christmas tree, everything moved around and shifted shapes until the room was becoming recognizable in anther form. 

Once again Brian stood in his own home. Completely alone in the soft blue glow of his bedroom. 

~*~*~*~ 

__

Only he who has seen better days and lives to see better days again knows their full value. *Mark Twain* 

~*~*~*~

Brian was alone, but in his mind a thousand different voices scream at him. Telling him to listen. Telling him to think and pay attention. That something should be learned. And for once, he was surprised to find that he wanted to listen. To give in and have faith that they would steer him correctly. After all, they might be voices in his head but they were his voices. And no part of him had ever let him down before. 

He sat quietly in the dark. Waiting patiently for the next spirit. They always came in threes. Past, Present and Future. And to tell the truth, he was looking forward to seeing what the future would hold for him. Would he be a millionaire, living the life that he had always wanted? Would he still be in Pitts? 

Finally after half an hour, the clock struck three and he tensed waiting for the sound that would give away the presence of the ghost. He didn't have to wait long as a faint shuffling was heard behind him. He turned and fell off of the couch in shock. 

Before him stood a man. Dressed in a black shroud from head to toe, the only part of him that was visible to Brian was his face, which was ashen white. He was pale, disgustingly so. Death warmed over, was the expression that came to his mind. But Brian stood up and tried to regain his composure. 

"You a-are the ghost of Christmas Future?" The ghost merely nodded, his mouth drawn in a deep scowl. "What are you going to show me?" The man simply stared blankly at Brian. It seemed that he was going to be talking to himself for this one. "Well?" 

The dark figure moved quickly. Too quickly for Brian's eyes to follow. But he came towards him and wrapped him in darkness. He felt as though he were being strangled but as quickly as it had entrapped him, the darkness faded and Brian found himself standing in Liberty Diner. 

The place was dimly lit, as the only source of illumination was coming from the ancient lava lamps that were still adorning the tables and a sparse Christmas tree in the corner nearest to the door. There weren't many customers, which was odd since most of the patrons had nowhere to go on Christmas except to Liberty Diner. Deb stood behind the counter looking as though she wasn't sure which direction to go. She donned a black tshirt and pants beneath her bright blue vest. 

"What's wrong here?" He looked up to see the man in black spinning himself slowly on one of the bar stools. When he stopped, it was to point towards the door. As he did this, the bell above the door jingled, signaling a new customer. Only it wasn't a customer. It was Justin. 

Sweet Justin. His hair was still the same white blond but now he wore it longer and slicked back. He was still thin, but Brian was willing to bet that he hadn't changed his diet in the slightest. He wore a black leather jacket that had once been Brian's favorite. Brian's heart leapt at this. It could only mean that they had gotten back together. And that he had become completely soft or else senile in his old age as he would NEVER have normally let Justin out of the loft wearing his clothes. 

"Sunshine?" Debbie giggled. "Is that really you?" 

Justin grinned for the woman and nodded as she hugged him to her ample form. When he pulled back, he fingered her red wig and his eyes went big as he teased her with a simple look. 

"I know, I know! I guess it is a little outdated for this old broad." 

"No Deb, you look wonderful. Just as I remembered you." Justin settled on the stool beside the ghost and took his time, letting his eyes roam over his old haunt. "So where is everyone?" 

Deb sighed and stood behind the counter so that she was directly in front of him. "I'm not gonna bullshit ya sweetie. Michael isn't coming. David isn't coming. Em and his sugar daddy definitely aren't coming. Especially after that whole scene that Brian caused at their last dinner party. Ted said he was going to come but now he has to work." 

"Lindz and Mel?" 

"Lindsay is coming. Bringing Gus but I think even he had reservations about it. Sad ain't it." 

"Can you blame them Deb? I mean...Brian had been a world class ass hole in the first place. He just...hardened." 

"After you left." 

Justin rolled his eyes. "Oh no! Don't pin it on me!" 

"Cool your cucumber sweetie. I'm just saying...when you two split he seemed to come apart at the seems. Slowly but surely." 

"Yeah well..." 

Brian watched on in wonder. They were obviously having some sort of party for him. But why would his friends, even his best friend, refuse to be there? 

"Is that his?" Debbie reached across the counter to touch the leather coat. Justin nodded and ran his fingers down the row of buttons on the right side. "Lindz said to go through and get what I wanted. This is all I took. The rest of the things wouldn't have fit very well. He had gone up two sizes. Did you know that?" 

"It was hard not to notice. He ate here often enough. Guess his ticker couldn't keep up with the addition of fried food to his diet." 

Brian fumed. The point of this conversation was becoming quite apparent to him. He was dead and the few people that still cared enough to mourn for him didn't seem too broken up. But the fact that he had become ‘plump' at the end?! That was the last straw. 

"This is pointless," He raged. "What is this going to show me? That I was disliked? That no one cries when I go? Do you think I care about that? Because I don't!" And it was true. Brian had never wanted anyone crying over him. 

The spirit looked at him with his glassy black eyes and Brian shivered when a chill wracked his body. 

"So...what is Gus going to do now?" 

Justin shrugged sadly. "I guess he's going to have to search out a new donor. But...matches for kidneys don't come easily. Brian was really their last hope." 

"Then it doesn't look good." A change of subject was definitely needed. Justin had been very upset over Gus's recent sickness. Deb thought for a moment and smiled. "When Vic went, he said that he had lived the life he wanted. He had been himself. And if he died for that then he would die happier than most people." 

A wet smile crossed Justin's face. "I miss him, Deb." 

Brian's heart squeezed tightly in his chest. His son was sick. Justin was upset. He had left things in such a mess. "Don't cry for me Justin. Never cry for me. I'm not worth it!" This was quickly laid to rest, however, as he realized that it wasn't Brian that Justin missed. 

"I do too. But Vic wouldn't want us to dwell." She pulled off her vest and went to grab her coat, shooing the few customers out. "Ready?" Justin nodded. "It's an Irish wake so at least we know that there'll be some booze!" 

Their laughter faded as the door closed behind them and Brian stood as still as a statue. His emotions were running high but he had no clue as to what the reason was. Perhaps it was that people that had once been his family were attending his funeral for free drinks. Maybe it was Gus and the fact that he had died disappointing his son just as he had in life. Whatever the reason, he began to feel sick and begged the hollow-eyed spirit to take him back. 

Without saying a word, the man nodded to him and pulled him once again into the darkness. Now they stood next to a fresh grave. He knew this scene. Like a scene from a film or novel, he knew by heart what would happen next. He would lean over and cry out as he saw his name imprinted on the headstone. And he did just that. 

He knew he was dead. The shock came with seeing one's future lying under a pile of dirt. No earthly possessions, money, a great home, labels...none of that mattered in the slightest. As efficiently as cold water, the truth hit him and he was faced with his own immortality. 

Images of baby Gus, a nineteen year old Lindsay, Melanie in one of her tirades, Michael laughing with him over some lame joke and one hit off a joint, Ted and Emmett taking early morning shots at him over something that had happened the night before, Deb and Vic doing the hustle, Jennifer Taylor throwing Justin's bag on his desk, Chris Hobbs hitting Justin with a baseball bat, Him dancing with Justin at the prom only moments before the attack. 

As his life flashed before his eyes, Brian saw without a doubt where he had been and where he was going and he let out a blood curdling scream as he fought the feeling of being thrown into the dark pit below. He looked up from the hole, noting that he was indeed in the grave. And the man in black stood over him, watching with his blank eyes. For the first time, the man in black smirked and nodded as Brian stared in awe while the world around him disappeared. 

~*~*~*~

He woke up in a cold sweat. His sheets were wet with his perspiration and his head was hurting as it only did when he had a nightmare. A nightmare?! It was a fucking nightmare? 

Brian tossed the sheets aside, ignoring the chill that settled upon him, and went to the window. As he stood, staring at the deserted street below, he dialed his secretary's cell phone number. 

"Cynthia? Hi. Could you tell me what today is?" 

"Boss...you must be joking! Look, it's Christmas! I don't care what you think but I refuse to come into work today so forget it!" 

Brian sighed. It was still Christmas. It had all been a dream! "No, Cynthia I know you want to see your family. Why don't you take the rest of the week off and I'll see you next Friday." 

"Brian?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Did you...bump your head? Are you okay? Because I can call a doctor if you really need me to." 

Brian smiled. "No. I'm fine, Cynthia. Really. I've never been better." 

"That's great boss. Have a Merry Christmas. And tell Justin I said hello." The blonde on the other end giggled and cut the phone off. She thought his new and improved mood had something to do with Justin. 

Well it did, didn't it? 

Dream or not - there was no denying that the events of the previous hours had effected Brian greatly, giving him an all new outlook on things. 

He dialed his phone once more as he ran around the apartment, getting things ready. This time he called an airline. He'd be damned if this Christmas wasn't going to be a good one. 

~*~*~*~

Brian sat in his jeep and watched as a very frantic Deb ran in and out of the house, tossing bag after bag to their limo driver. He had called Michael and informed them that he and David would be having guests for Christmas. Michael had been shocked to say the least. He had gotten choked up and admitted to Brian that he had just called his mother and told her that they weren't coming. Brian had made Michael promise to let Deb think that he had made the reservations and a hesitant Michael agreed. They had chatted for a while, realizing just how much they had missed one another and had even made plans for Brian to come out to Oregon for a visit. 

With that taken care of, Brian headed for the munchers'. Er...Lindsay and Melanie's. 

The gang was all there. He could hear them inside, laughing loudly at something. After a moment, he worked up the courage and rang the doorbell. 

"Brian!" Lindsay shrieked. "You came!" The woman launched herself at him and before she could stop herself, she was hugging him tightly. When she realized what she had done, she moved away looking slightly embarrassed. "Sorry." Brian smiled at her. "What made you decide to show up?" 

"Well..." Brian thought back to their Christmases at college. "I once promised you that I would always be there for you." Lindsay's eyes turned glassy with unshed tears and she laughed and pulled the man in for another hug. This time she didn't apologize. 

"Is he here yet?" 

"Um...yeah. About Justin," Lindsay looked hesitant. "He-" 

"DAD!" Gus proclaimed as he caught site of his father still standing in the doorway. "Merry Christmas!" 

"Merry Christmas Gus!" Brian picked his son up in a giant bear hug, growling for effect. Gus giggled and growled back. 

Justin had heard the commotion and made a b-line for the door. 

"Where are you going?" Brian asked as he watched the man begin slipping on his coat. 

"You should be with your family. Your son. I don't want to be in the way." 

"Justin. You are my family." Without any thought to his actions, Brian splayed his fingers across Justin's pale cheeks and leaned in to kiss him softly. 

It began as a soft touching of lips. A mere feather light brush. But like potato chips, they could never have just one. The second kiss was more firm and Brian encircled Justin with his arms. Justin opened his mouth and allowed Brian to deepen the kiss even further. Their tongues slid together and each reveled in the hot silky feel of the kiss. Pulling away, Brian rested his forehead on Justin's and their eyes remained locked in an impenetrable stare. Brian sighed. "I'm sorry baby. I didn't mean to forget about you." 

Justin smiled at his words. "I know. I know Brian. I do. I understand." 

"You always have. But...if...if you want to come back...I promise...I-I'll never forget you again." 

Justin looked away guiltily. "Brian I -" 

"I know." He glanced behind Justin to see a tall handsome redhead staring at them. "Do what makes you happy Justin. Just know...that I'll wait for you. Just like every time you waited for me." Brian kissed him once again on the forehead and turned away to go inside. 

Dinner was a huge success and everyone basked in Brian's presence. Even Melanie seemed to be enjoying his company. He seemed so full of life and love for every single person at the table. With the exception of the redheaded ‘friend' named Charlie, of course. Still he kept his jealousy, anger and resentment to himself and remained as complacent as Brian Kinney could ever be. 

Afterwards, he passed out the last minute gifts. Melanie and Lindsay received a weekend at a spa and the promise that Gus could stay with him on whatever weekend they chose to use the gift. Blake and Ted got a joint gift certificate to a sex shop, since it was one of their favorite stores. He had also managed to dig up a box set of the greatest Operas of all time. Emmett was tougher but he had scrounged up tickets to Barbara's final FINAL farewell concert. The queen squealed with delight and began a list of possible dates for the event. 

Gus was easier. Toys, and lots of them, were delivered that afternoon by special delivery. Brian had payed dearly for that service but Christmas came but once a year. 

He hadn't brought Justin anything, keeping with their so-called tradition not to buy one another presents. So after the gifts had been opened, Brian took his leave, glancing briefly at his love before slipping from the room and out the door. 

~*~*~*~

He was back in his bed. The blue glow from above the bed was once again his only comfort and light in the pitch black loft. He looked back on his day and wondered about his dream. Had it been real? Was it at all possible. How else could he have known about Michael not coming home and Justin bringing his ‘friend' and all the other details that had him in deja vu all day long. 

Dream or not, he was more determined than ever to make things work for him. He didn't have to become the overweight ogre that no one cared for. He would see that his son stayed healthy and his family and friends remained happy. He would make sure that he, himself was the best person he could be. The spirits' work would not be in vein. 

A soft rustling near the kitchen caught his attention. Not again, his mind cried. 

"Pearl? Is that you?" Brian called out hesitantly. 

"Who the Hell is Pearl?" Justin looked down at him curiously. Brian yelped at the unexpected voice and laughed at his at his own jumpiness. 

"Sorry. It's been a rough day." 

"Yeah? You seemed okay to me. Better than okay, in fact. I wanted to come by and make sure you weren't some imposter that had the real Brian and was holding him prisoner. 

"Nope. It's just me." 

"That's the best news I've heard all day." 

"So...what about...Charlie?" Brian snarled. 

"Charlie is a friend. JUST a friend. Might have been more but then...this old flame came back into my life and I just can't seem to get him out of my mind." 

"Oh yeah?" As they spoke in hushed tones, Brian had risen from the bed and was closing in on Justin as a lion to his prey. His arm snaked around the boy's waist, the other arm caught him beneath his knees and he lifted Justin's slight weight easily. Slowly they leaned in for a kiss before Brian could place him gently on the bed. "I got you something." 

"You didn't have to do that!" 

"I know. But I wanted to." Brian reached beneath his pillow, which had formerly served as Justin's hiding place, and pulled out the silver covered package, handing it over to the young man. His fingers lingered on Justin's as he took the gift from him and they shared a smile. Without a word, Justin sat the gift aside and took out a small, flat gift for Brian. 

"Whatever happened to our no gifts rule?" 

"I think we might as well just forget about that rule." Justin giggled. 

Brian put his package on the floor beside Justin's. They would open them in the morning. Or at some point tomorrow. Maybe sometime within the week. Sometime this month at least. They had time. He would see to it. 

"Brian, I'm sorry." Justin spoke up. 

"For what?" 

"For leaving. I should have stuck it out. I overreacted." 

"True. You did." Brian kissed Justin's stomach as he unbuttoned his shirt at a steady pace, determined to take things slowly. "But...if you hadn't, nothing would have changed. We wouldn't be here now." 

"And here now...this is a good place isn't it." 

"Yes. It's a very good place Justin."


End file.
